


Doggerel

by Devereauxs_Disease, Llewcie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Limericks, M/M, Sonnets, photo story, utter crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11704371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/pseuds/Llewcie
Summary: Dear Diary,Will stormed out of the house today after what I consider to be an extremely petty argument.





	Doggerel

**_Day 1_ **

I have found myself unable to sleep. When I paced around the bedroom in the darkest part of the night, I caught the smell of him, and for a moment I believed him to be hiding in wait for me. To kill me? To beg my forgiveness?

_To ravish me?_

A thorough search revealed one of his unwashed flannels stuffed under my video collection which I keep in the closet. Is Will so cruel, that he is attempting to torment me in his absence?

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 1, a bit later_ **

Now I cannot watch my National Geographic documentaries without thinking of Will Graham.

He is tormenting me.

Oh, Will.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 3_ **

After a profound amount of research, and no small amount of soul-searching, meditation, and tears, I have discovered a way to ensnare him.

It is foolproof. He will be mine again.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 4_ **

  
These days of waiting are long. I have written a sonnet.

 

My William's eyes are nothing like the sky.  
If that gloaming blue be truth, his are a muddy lie.  
Blood is far more red than his lips red;  
If hair be strands then curling vines grow on his head.  
I have bitten sweet apples, red and white,  
But more like kiwi are his unshaven cheeks.  
And in ship-on-the-bottles there is more delight  
Than in the day-old whiskey which from my William reeks.  
I love to hear him snap and growl yet well I know  
That his dogs' bark a far more pleasing sound  
I grant I never saw a godling go,  
My William when he walks sways that ass around.  
And yet by paisley I know our love as rare  
Or rarer still as we two monsters share.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 5_ **

  
It is possible that Will has discovered that the dog is stuffed.

He is more clever than I ever imagined.

Oh, my sweet, clever Will.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 6_ **

 

I have written another poem. It is far superior to my first attempt, which was clouded by a sentimentality that I no longer feel.

 

There once was a boy named Will  
To murderers he was quite a pill  
I gave him a sniff  
He threw me off a cliff  
Now together we kiss and kill

 

 

Actually, I cannot feel much of anything, except my eyebrows are buzzing.

 

 

There was a doctor from Baltimore  
Who's social life was quite a bore  
He ate what he pleased  
Evaded the FBI with ease  
And dragged his true love ashore

There once was a man who was blue  
All alone on his feelings, he'd chew  
He ate the rude  
Until he met a dude  
And now his table is set for two

I tried to woo a mongoose  
Who was a bit of a recluse  
I wanted to get him in the mood  
But he didn't like my food  
Now to Europe I must vamoose

 

_I am a poetic genius._

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 6, a bit later_ **

I have an unusual plight  
Will's ass is incredibly tight  
But he won't let me nibble  
Since I eat people like kibble  
I think I'll chance just a bite

Oh Will. Why have you forsaken me?

* * *

 

 

 

 

  
**_Day 7_**

There is no God. I cannot find my left shoe.

* * *

 

 

 

 

**_Day 8_ **

After contemplation, I have decided that more drastic measures are in order. Perhaps he will be summoned from his hiding place by the screaming of what he holds most dear.

I've been in love for an annal  
With a man made of flannel  
I buy him nice togs  
He gave them to the dogs  
His wardrobe I'm going to dismantle

 

TBC...


End file.
